


Plead Insanity

by craple



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 10:06:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craple/pseuds/craple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Usually, Enjolras doesn't have to share Grantaire's attention with anyone else, but. Tonight is not one of those nights, and he's not sure whether he likes the lack of it – of Grantaire's blue eyes on his person – or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plead Insanity

**Author's Note:**

> personally i find the act of possessiveness rather weird and annoying, which is also weird and annoying cause it's all i've written so far - not in this fandom, but you get it - so you can imagine how bored i was while writing this. *hands*
> 
> enjoy.

The man that is currently talking to Grantaire is lithe and tall; with long legs that can make even Andrew Garfield jealous, deep green eyes, pale lips, and sandy blonde hair. His skin is just this shade of pale with barely any hair, like the skin of a baby, probably smooth to the touch as smooth as it looks.

He is definitely the athletic type, though, with the way his muscles flex easily underneath the thin white v-neck shirt every time he reaches for his drink or put his hand on Grantaire's elbow just because he can.

The truth is, Enjolras hates the man on sight, and is positive that given the chance to talk with this guy, he would probably shove his pen through the guy's throat because he would absolutely be wonderful. Courfeyrac had said so himself, that Grantaire likes the wonderful-people-type, likes them smart and witty and beautiful, and this man fits the profile _precisely_.

Enjolras wonders, if choosing his words carefully and spill his rights on the court and point out the flaw on every single evidence found, would let him walk away from a murder. There is always the option of saying it's an accident – playing darts with Feuilly, maybe, on the corner, slipping his fingers then _'accidentally'_ slicing through the wire of the lamp hanging above the man's head –

"Enjolras," Combeferre calls his name, calm and the epitome of serenity despite having Eponine practically giving him a lap-dance, and Enjolras wonders how is this his life. "Are you okay?" he asks, to which Enjolras simply grunts.

"I am well, 'Ferre. Just need a drink," he says, watches the man leaning closer to an oblivious Grantaire whose hands are flying about to explain one thing or another, then adds, darkly, "Or five."

Combeferre frowns at him, but doesn't say anything as Enjolras strides toward the counter, where Grantaire and the man are perched, undisturbed.

Usually, Enjolras doesn't have to share Grantaire's attention with anyone else, but. Tonight is not one of those nights, and he's not sure whether he likes the lack of it – of Grantaire's blue eyes on his person – or not.

Obviously, he hates the man Grantaire is talking to, for one reason or another. Grantaire is usually distracted by Bahorel offering him shots or Feuilly asking him about his art projects, of which Enjolras has never seen before, he'll need to rectify that – so maybe he doesn't really _mind_ having Grantaire's eyes off his back.

Plus, it's not like Grantaire doesn't have other friends. It's not often, but Enjolras has met a few of Grantaire's friends, most of which hang around because Grantaire is fascinating while the rest wants to get into his pants.

Enjolras can count the amount of people Grantaire has rejected without missing a beat, because, like Courfeyrac said, Grantaire is not the type to sleep around, unless he takes a great interest on possible one-night stand.

What Grantaire has never done, though, is ignoring Enjolras. He never could, said Jehan, backed with Feuilly and even _Combeferre's_ opinion. Which. Combeferre's words are _laws_. It is fact and everyone must obey. So.

He is a bit disappointed that Grantaire doesn't notice him approaching until Enjolras catches his wrist before it can hit him in the face.

Grantaire turns.

He doesn't seem pleased, Enjolras realises, but not because Enjolras has interrupted him. Rather, he doesn't seem pleased with his companion, and their argument must be bad enough that Grantaire has resorted to get his point across with his very mobile hands.

Enjolras has never seen Grantaire like that; he has always looked a bit pleased on the aftermath of an argument with Enjolras or any of the les Amis. It's disorienting.

It is also satisfying, Enjolras admits, smugly.

The dark expression on Grantaire's face is replaced, in an instant, upon looking at Enjolras. His eyes lit up, a sea of blue twinkling like the surface of the Seine on sunny days. Lips curving in an excited, happy smile that eases any of Enjolras' worry and possible hate toward Grantaire's companion.

"Enjolras," says Grantaire, happily – he always is happy, when Enjolras pays attention to him, even though Enjolras can't _not_ pay attention to him – then, instead of talking, Enjolras tugs Grantaire out of the booth and kisses his nicotine-stained lips and takes pleasure in the way Grantaire immediately melts into his arms, the dumbfounded look on Grantaire's companion's face.

He would happily share Grantaire's attention with others, let Bahorel lick salt off Grantaire's arms and Eponine cuddling Grantaire for warmth and Feuilly staying with Grantaire in his studio, but he would _never_ share Grantaire himself.

This, Enjolras thinks, as he manhandles Grantaire against the counter, is _his_.


End file.
